


Ice Cream

by thealpacalypse



Category: Twelfth Grade (or Whatever) (Web Series)
Genre: I'm so emo over all these nerds with their gay feelings for each other wow, M/M, Pokemon GO - Freeform, Swearing, Tumblr Prompt, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7711687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealpacalypse/pseuds/thealpacalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Who crawls through someone’s window at 4 am to go for ice cream?!”</p>
<p>Oren has no control over his life. Drew is apparently beginning to get used to it. (He still has some questions though.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lesbiankavinsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiankavinsky/gifts).



> Bless [Lee](http://psychotic-stanley-hopkins.tumblr.com/) for this prompt. You're awesome, friend, so I tried to write you an awesome thing. Not sure if I succeeded. 
> 
> This got out of hand, like my writing usually does, but oh well. It's also not beta'd, and I have too many emotions about these two nerd kids to have good judgement over what I'm writing about them - sorry for that.
> 
> (Oh, just in case anyone is confused: this is set a couple of months after the events of 12gw.)

Afterwards, Drew isn’t sure if it’s Oren falling through his window that wakes him up, or the loud crash that follows when Oren knocks over the pile of books next to Drew’s bed. Either way, Drew blinks into the darkness in confusion, staring at the Oren-shaped silhouette in front of him. When his eyes adjust, he realizes that Oren looks at least as bewildered as Drew feels.

 

“Umm… hi,” Drew says, in lack of anything else that could make sense. Drew is at home with his family during the semester break. Drew’s room is on the second floor. Oren should be in Illyria. More importantly, they should both be sleeping because it’s the middle of the night. This is absurd.

 

Oren inhales sharply. “Hi,” he replies. “Hi.” Twice. He sounds nervous.

 

Drew finds the switch for his bedside lamp and turns it on. Sadly, the situation doesn’t make any more sense now than it did in the dark – Oren is still standing in the middle of Drew’s room, eyes wide, and a look at the clock tells Drew that it’s 4 am.

 

Drew has no idea what to say.

 

“Did – did I wake you up?” Oren mumbles, his eyes fluttering around the room. That’s when Drew starts to worry, because Oren not looking at someone is so unlike him.

 

So instead of saying ‘Of course you woke me up, it’s 4 am!’ he asks, “Oren, are you alright?”

 

Oren laughs. “Oh yeah,” he says, still not looking at Drew, “I’m super.”

 

He doesn’t sound ‘super’. He sounds like a mess, if Drew is honest, and well, he usually is, although rarely to people’s faces, because it might come across as rude.

 

Drew sits up, rubbing his face. Oren, standing there stiffly with his darting eyes, makes Drew nervous, so he pats the bed to suggest to Oren to sit down.

 

Gladly, Oren does.

 

They sit in silence for a minute or two. Drew tries to come up with a polite way to ask Oren if he’s freaking out – they’ve been closer as friends for the last couple of months, but not really in a ‘I climb through your window in the middle of the night resembling a human disaster’ way of _close_ , so Drew doesn’t really know what the procedure for this kind of scenario is.

 

Finally, he decides to ask, “Umm… I’m not judging or anything, but what on earth are you doing here?”

 

Oren groans and buries his face in his palms. Then he mumbles something that Drew can’t quite understand, but he _thinks_ he can distinguish the word “ice cream”.

 

“What?”

 

“Ice cream,” Oren repeats.

 

Drew sighs and leans forward, his shoulder bumping against Oren’s. “Yeah, I got that part. It was the rest that I didn’t understand.”

 

Oren lets his hands sink and finally looks at Drew.

 

(This is really not the time for Drew to realize how beautiful and dark Oren’s eyes look in this light, and how pretty his eyelashes are.)

 

Then, Oren takes a deep breath. Slowly and clearly, he says, “Do you want to go out for ice cream with me?”

 

 

That doesn’t make sense.

 

And Oren looks way too sincere and his puppy eye levels are honestly offensive, it’s just completely unfair.

 

“Oren,” Drew says cautiously. “It’s 4 am.”

 

Oren’s eyes widen in shock. “Fuck, is it really?!” He stares at the clock on Drew’s wall in horror.

 

Drew shakes his head in disbelief. It’s a mystery to him how someone as smart as Oren can be so… okay, well, not that Oren is dumb. But sometimes he kind of is. Because who crawls through someone’s window at 4 am to go for ice cream? Who drives for miles in the middle of the night and doesn’t even know what time it is? Oren freaking Douglas, that’s who apparently.

 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Drew. I didn’t realize! I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk to catch some Pokémon, and I kinda walked really far, and then my battery died and I realized I was already halfway here, so –“

 

“You WALKED HERE?! All the way from Illyria?!” Drew has trouble keeping the pure panic out of his voice. He tries not to vividly imagine everything that could have happened to Oren.

 

Oren bites his lip. “Anyway –“ and Drew could swear Oren blushes a bit, what the fuck – “you didn’t reply to my question.”

 

When Drew gives him a puzzled stare, Oren repeats once more, “ice cream?”

 

Drew is close to being speechless. He almost feels like throwing his hands up in despair like a comic book figure. _Unbelievable_.

 

“It’s still 4 am,” Drew says instead.

 

And now Oren definitely blushes. “Oh umm, yeah,” he mumbles, “no, I meant, not now, just um… generally? Like, you, me, ice cream? Or, you know, something else, doesn’t have to be ice cream, could be anything really, if that’s, umm, you know?”

 

That’s when it clicks.

 

“Holy crap,” Drew exhales. “You’re asking me out.”

 

Now that’s the point when Drew realizes he should possibly check if he’s still dreaming. He doesn’t check, because if he is, he doesn’t want to know just yet.

 

“Oh wow.” He blinks at Oren who is looking anywhere but at Drew again, but still somehow grinning charmingly.

 

_Bury me_.

 

Now Drew is actually speechless.

 

Oren doesn’t seem too eager to say anything either.

 

So they just sit there, Drew staring at Oren, Oren staring at the wall, their shoulders touching.

 

Until Drew bites his tongue and ow, yeah, that pain is definitely real. He’s wide awake.

 

“You’re _unbelievable_ ,” he says – or at least that’s what his words say. His voice, he realizes, says something completely different, and for once, his face must be an open book. He just wishes Oren would look at him again so he could see.

 

And Oren does. His face lights up, and a nervous giggle spills over his lips. “So… ice cream?” he repeats again and _oh my_ –

 

“Yes, of course!”

 

Oren stares as if he expected a different answer. “… Really?”

 

And for that alone, Drew kind of wants to punch Oren. ~~With his mouth. Possibly on Oren’s mouth.~~

 

“Honestly?!” he asks in exasperation. “You walk all the way from Illyria in the middle of the night _just_ to ask me out and you expected me to say _no_?!” Oren Douglas is too fucking much for Drew to handle.

 

“I mean I also caught a Gastly and two Clefairy on the way here, so… wait. Actually really yes? As in you want to go out with me? Wow.”

 

Drew guesses “wow” is the only word that can summarize this situation.

 

Especially when he realizes how incredibly close they’re still sitting – he can feel Oren’s body heat through both of their shirt sleeves. Usually he would move out of Oren’s space, because that’s what you do when you’re a decent gay dude with an unrequited crush on a questioning dude, but now… Drew decides to push his luck just a little further.

 

“So you just _accidentally_ walked all the way out here?” he asks. It’s difficult not to grin.

 

“Umm…” Oren turns away, possibly to hide another blush. It’s a shame, Drew thinks, because in the last few minutes, seeing Oren flustered has easily become his favorite thing in the world.

 

“Kind of,” Oren finally says. “But you were kind of also on my mind, so…”

 

“Kind of?” Drew presses him.

 

Oren chuckles. “As in, you were the whole reason I couldn’t sleep in the first place, because…”

 

And suddenly he looks at Drew again, and there’s this kind of tension between them that Drew has felt before, but never so real and purposeful. It’s almost like this isn’t wishful thinking anymore.

 

“Yeah?” Drew whispers, not taking his eyes off of Oren’s for a second.

 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about last summer. When you were saying I should experiment. And how stupid I was for never taking your offer…” By the time Oren trails off and licks his lips, Drew has goose bumps all over.

 

Drew inhales shakily and prays that he won’t ruin the moment when he murmurs, “the offer still stands actually.”

 

Oren’s gaze flickers to Drew’s lips. His hand is on Drew’s knee now. It makes Drew hot and cold all over, and he would look at it to capture the picture forever, but he can’t take his eyes off of Oren. Oren can’t take his eyes off of him either.

 

“Drew,” Oren whispers, his face so close now that Drew can almost feel the word on his skin, “kiss me.”

 

And Drew does.

 

 

 

The thing is: With Oren Douglas, you come to a point where you have to stop asking questions and just accept his weird, lovable ways. Drew has stopped asking questions years ago, and he has learned to become quite content about the fact that he might never know or understand his friend fully. In this moment though he finally gets the answer to a question that has been on his mind for at least two years:

 

_Is Oren Douglas a good kisser?_

 

The answer is yes, of course. Oren Douglas is fucking stellar at kissing and Drew forgets that he once swore he would drop dead if he ever got to actually do this. Kiss Oren.

 

The first morning birds have already started singing when Drew is finally able to keep a clear thought for longer than a couple of seconds.

 

“We should sleep,” he sighs against Oren’s neck, tired but completely content. By now they’re tangled up on Drew’s bed, warm bodies resting against each other in the most innocent way possible. Oren is lying on his back, both arms wrapped around Drew, while Drew is nestled up against him, his head buried in the curve of Oren’s neck. It’s not the most comfortable position, but they couldn’t care less, both of them way too sleepy and happy.

 

Oren hums. “I can’t stay here,” he protests half-heartedly, but he’s already making himself more comfortable on the bed.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Drew says, “you’re not going anywhere before you got some sleep, and I certainly won’t let you walk back. I’ll drive you home later.”

 

He yawns and pulls up his blanket to cover them both.

 

Oren tries to protest once more – “But what will your parents say?” – but Drew shuts him up with a quick kiss and a reassuring, “They love you. Now sleep.”

 

They’ll deal with the consequences when they wake up, Drew decides. Like the fact that his right hand is going to be useless tomorrow because Oren is lying on it. Or the wonderful mess of feelings in Drew’s chest. Or the burning question how on earth Oren managed to climb up to Drew’s window in the first place.

 

While Drew drifts off to sleep, he at least gets the answer to one more of his questions about Oren:

 

Yes, Oren Douglas does indeed talk in his sleep.

 

In all of his unintelligible mumbling Drew can more or less make out two things before he blissfully falls asleep himself:

 

The first one is “ice cream”.

 

The second is a bisexual pun.


End file.
